


The Good Old Days Sucked, Charlie

by lasagna_for_one



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Best Friends, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mentions of Childhood Sexual Abuse, Slurs, Substance Abuse, canon-typical bigotry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-28
Updated: 2016-05-28
Packaged: 2018-07-10 19:05:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7000933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lasagna_for_one/pseuds/lasagna_for_one
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mac is gay, and everyone knows except Mac. Charlie wants to help him out, but he has his own issues to contend with in order to make this scheme work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Good Old Days Sucked, Charlie

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place in some sort of amorphous time-period before season 11 probably

Charlie didn’t care. He didn’t understand why it was a big deal. So Mac was gay, so what? He knew, everybody knew— and he knew that Mac knew, somewhere inside, but instead of an appropriate reaction to that knowledge, he had instead buried his head in the sands of religion like some sort of conservative Catholic ostrich. Dennis would say that it was because Mac was totally in denial of reality, but most of the time, Mac’s delusions brought him joy. This one certainly didn’t. And Charlie hated to see his best friend— his real best friend, his friend who had never asked questions when he just started bawling behind the dumpster in fourth grade when they had cut class together, his friend who had just wrapped his arms around him, held him close until the sobbing quieted, and produced a (likely stolen) pot of rubber cement in solace. Charlie liked that about Mac. He wasn’t out to solve anyone else’s problems, but he was willing to allow Charlie to be Charlie when Charlie needed to be Charlie the most.

And, approaching forty at a terrifying speed, Charlie wanted to return that favor. Mac had been able to keep up his faux-heterosexuality for the better part of twenty-five years, but as their bodies had begun to slow down— quicker than their peers, probably due to all the self-abuse and neglect— Mac was struggling to maintain that lifestyle. Now, Charlie reckoned, was Mac’s sobbing slowing to the point where he could dip in with his own emotional glue pot. Or something. 

It wasn’t as though he really wanted to kiss Mac, or do anything with him sexually, but this would hardly be the first time that that had happened. At least he would be somewhat in control of the situation, he assured himself, and it didn’t kill him as a kid, so it certainly wouldn’t kill him now. He could handle it, he thought, as long as he kept his head together. The idea made him tense, but he had to do it. His best friend needed him. 

Charlie washed himself more than usual in the sink; he wasn’t particularly sure exactly what people did when they were bathing that made them smell less bad, though. He washed twice, thinking that might help, but he wasn’t really sure. He wasn’t bothered by his own scent. Frank took notice.

“Hot date, Charlie?” Frank asked, leaning in the foyer of their apartment.

“C’mon, Frank, can’t a guy wash himself up without getting the third degree, huh?” Charlie slapped some water in the general direction of his ears.

“It’s suspicious, that’s all I’m saying,” Frank crossed his arms. “This broad, she hot?”

“There’s no ‘broad’, Frank,” Charlie paused, trying to knock some water out of his ear. “Hey, man, can I borrow some of your cologne?”

“You’re fulla shit, Charlie, until you can admit that— no cologne for you.”

“Frank, quit busting my balls here, come on!” his voice had become shrill. “I’m doing a favor for a friend, so let’s just leave it at that!”

A sense of weird, fatherly concern seemed to overcome Frank. “Charlie, you hookin’?”

Charlie sighed. “For god’s sake, Frank, I’m not hooking. Jesus christ, dude.”

“Good, cuz of all the things you could do with your life and be good at, I would not put that on the list. Your in trouble, just let me know.”

“Thanks, Frank, your confidence in me is amazing.”

Frank made a face, left the foyer, and returned with the bottle of cologne. “Don’t use too much, kid.”

“Thanks, Frank,” Charlie said again, though with no trace of sarcasm, this time. He immediately doused himself with nearly half the bottle.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Frank scowled, “you’re wasting it. You smell like a goddamn whore.”

“Uh, I think I know how to put cologne on, Frank,” Charlie assured him. He spritzed himself one more time before setting the bottle down and extending his arms, as if to present himself for inspection. “Ok, I’m good to go. How do I look?”

Frank gave him a puzzled once over. “You look like you always do.”

“Perfect, good,” Charlie clapped his hands together, rubbing them. “Uh, by the way, Frank, can you not be in the apartment tonight?”

“No broad, huh? Yeah right.”

“Listen, will you do me this favor? This one thing? Come on, bro.”

Frank sighed this time. “Fine. I’ve got plans with Artemis, anyway. We’re doing a bang tour of all the Wawa bathrooms in the county.”

Charlie scrunched his face in disgust. “Ok, whatever, Frank, I don’t even want to know.”

—-

It had been a regular Tuesday night at Paddy’s for the most part. Not enough customers to really justify staying open, but enough to create the illusion that what they were doing was somehow worth-while. It was just a Tuesday, they had to remind themselves. Days of the week had never held much meaning to Charlie— they seemed irrelevant and bizarre as a concept. It made sense when they were still in school, and it marked the days when they had to wake up early enough to get to class, but that was a long time ago. He couldn’t believe that as an adult, he was still supposed to care about these things.

But as they prepared to close the bar, Charlie pulled Mac aside. “Listen, dude, you wanna get away from Dee’s apartment? Frank’s going on a bang tour tonight, we could hang out.”

“Bang tour? Actually, you know, I don’t wanna know.” Mac shook his head. “But, uh, dude, your apartment is disgusting.”

“Oh, come on, man, I’m trying to be cool here. We never get to hang out anymore.”

Mac tilted his head to one side, considering that fact. “You’re right, bro. Can Dennis come?”

Charlie crossed his arms. “No, Dennis can’t come! Come on, man, this is about you and me, buddy. Our friendship is going down the tubes. We never get to hang out and I want to hang out with just you, and you’re giving me this shit? Come on.”

“Fine, fine, keep your voice down, dude.” 

Dennis walked out from the back office, where he had likely been avoiding cleaning under the guise of counting their paltry take from the evening. “Did I hear my name?”

“No, Dennis, not everything is about you,” Charlie scowled. Dennis always ruined it for him. He was always trying to push a wedge in his and Mac’s friendship, just to keep everything the way he liked.

Dennis looked a little hurt. “Ok, ok, man, I’m sorry.” He turned to Mac. “I’m heading out, buddy, see you back at Dee’s?”

“Actually, Dennis,” Mac started, clasping his hands in a nervous way, “I’ve got some… stuff I have to take care of tonight.”

“Some ‘stuff’? What ‘stuff’?” Dennis had assumed a position of percolating malice, hands on hips, head tilted back so he could look down his perfect nose at the two of them. He crossed his arms, his eyes moved from Mac to Charlie, from Charlie to Mac, mouth slightly open, as it often was when he was suspicious. “Are you two boxing me out of a scheme?”

“What? Dude, no, I’ve just got some stuff to do,” Mac said. It was too bad he sucked at lying.

“Alright, Charlie, then, if the two of you aren’t hanging out without me, you wanna get wasted at Dee’s with me?”

Charlie was a much better liar. Although this wasn’t exactly a lie. Maybe that was why it was so easy to lay on a lascivious smile, draw a deep breath and proudly say, “No can do, bro, I’ve got a date tonight.”

“You, a date?” Dennis scoffed. “Is that why you’re wearing all that horrible cologne?”

“It’s not horrible, bro, it’s fancy.”

“It’s disgusting, Charlie.” The venom was building in his voice. 

“You can think what you wanna think, but I’ll leave that up for my hot date to decide, you know what I mean?” Charlie held a fist up for Mac to bump, which he did, while nodding.

“Who goes on a date at one o’clock in the goddamn morning!? Y’know—“ Dennis’s face was getting red, but he threw a hand over his mouth, reeling himself in, in some capacity, before using it in violent gesticulations as he spoke, “—This is fine. You go on your ‘date’ and you do you ‘stuff.’ I’m out of here. I don’t need this shit.”

Dennis left in a huff.

Mac looked at Charlie, excited. “Whoa, dude, you have a date?”

Charlie rolled his eyes. And he was the stupid one? “No, Mac, I just told him that so he would leave us alone.” 

“Oh, right, good, cuz I actually don’t have any stuff to take care of, I was just saying that for the same reason.”

“I know, I know, buddy. Now, let’s grab some beer, get some pizza, and have a good time!”

“Hell yeah!”

Nearly at the door, Dee came out of the keg room to confront them. “Where do you boners think you’re going?”

“Uh, that’s for us to know and for you to find out,” Mac said pointedly.

“Goddammit, you two barely did anything! Charlie, it’s your job to clean— that’s why we call it Charliework!”

“Charlie’s only work to do tonight is get piss-ass drunk with me, Dee,” Mac put an arm around Charlie’s shoulders as he spoke. “Come on, dude, let’s get out of here.”

They walked out, the echo of Dee’s cry of “oh-you-goddamn-sons-of-bitches” fading behind them in the warmth of a summer night in South Philly. The streets might have been dangerous for another pair of friends, but between Mac’s misplaced confidence, and Charlie’s odd vibe of indestructible rat-kinghood, they were rarely bothered when they walked the streets together. It had been that way since they were little kids. It was a comfortable feeling.

They purchased a case of beer and a takeaway pizza from a gas-station along the way. They drank about four beers a piece by the time they finally reached Charlie’s apartment. He could see how the place might scare someone; it was a decrepit building with poor security, paint chipping off the walls en masse. But it was home, and Charlie felt comfortable there, and that was the only place he wanted to imagine living out this plan. Anywhere else, and he might get freaked out.

He’d still probably have to huff a little, he thought. That was a given.

Mac sat on the futon, which had been folded back into it’s couch form, and cracked open another beer and served himself a slice of pizza. “Shit, dude, this pizza is terrible. We should really have gotten something from Perelli’s instead.”

“Too expensive,” Charlie answered. His nerves were starting to get the better of him, and he could feel the sweat pooling on the small of his back. Luckily, he had his hoodie on— but he’d probably have to take that off in the end, wouldn’t he? To do what he wanted to do? He only meant to sip the beer he’d open, but, as usual, he ended up chugging the entire thing. He didn’t hesitate to crack open another.

“Yeah, yeah,” Mac conceded. He offered Charlie a piece, and Charlie took it, a bit touched by the gesture, though he presumed it was an action taken to avoid his usually-filthy hands from touching something Mac planned on eating.

Charlie realized, on his third beer in fifteen minutes, that maybe he was drinking a bit too fast. Mac even seemed to notice, cocking an eyebrow as Charlie moved to open a fourth. Fourth inside the apartment— not counting the four he drank one the way. Or the other six he had had at the bar, along with the three shots of bourbon— but that was a while ago.

“Dude, is that your eighth beer? Pace yourself.”

“C’mon, man,” Charlie slurred, his voice tight and high as a burp attempted escape from his throat. “Counting isn’t cool, man.”

“I just don’t want you to hurt yourself,” Mac was only trailing by one beer at this point, so it was pretty rich to hear that.

“Dude, bro, my bro, dude, beer has never hurt anyone in the history of time.”

“That is just blatantly false, bro.”

“If it bothers you so much,” Charlie gave a sideways smile, “may-maybe you should drink faster instead of-of riding my dick like this.”

“Whatever, bro, I just don’t want you to piss on me after you pass out, that’s all.”

“Sure, suuuure you don’t.” Charlie put an arm around Mac. Shit, was it now or never already? “What do you want me to do to you?”

“Uh, you invited me over, I guess it’s your choice,” Mac tensed to Charlie’s awkward touch. “Wait, did you say ‘do to’ me?”

Charlie pulled his arm off. Too early. “No— no, man, you’ve got it all wrong. I’m drunk. No talk so good when I’m drunk.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” Mac guzzled down the last of his drink. “What do you wanna do?”

It occurred to Charlie then and their in his somewhere between buzzed and shit-faced mind that he had no plan for the night outside of banging Mac. He looked around the sparse room. “Glue?”

Mac sighed. “Really? That’s it?”

“C’mon,” Charlie put his arm around Mac again. “Just like— just like the good old days.”

“The good old days sucked, Charlie.”

“No, they didn’t, screw you, dude.” Charlie folded up on himself. This was pointless. He would never be important enough to Mac or sexy enough to Mac for him to want to do this with him. He might as well just call it a night, he figured. What a waste of cologne. “I really miss being your best friend, dude. It sucks— it sucks we can’t even have fun with each other an-any more.”

Mac sighed and crossed his arms. “Dude, is this what this is about? Come on, man. You know you’re my best friend.”

“No, I don’t, Mac, because you suck at showing it!” Charlie was shrill, unsure of where he was going with this, words just spilling out of him. Maybe that was the point of tonight— not helping Mac at all. Just helping himself, with Mac’s support, as usual. “I love you, dude, you’re the most important person in my life! And all you ever wanna do is hang out with Dennis and leave me out of stuff, because I-I’m not a sexy, successful man.”

Mac made a face. “Do you… really think that’s why I spend so much time with Dennis?”

“Yes, I do! He’s a sexy bastard man and I’m just a dirt grub. I’ll always be dirt grub.”

Mac pulled Charlie close and embraced him. “Dude, it’s not that at all. I hang out with Dennis because he’s also my best friend— he’s also my roommate! How many times do we have to have this conversation?”

“I-I don’t know,” Charlie was quieter now, because once again, there was Mac, holding him close when he was under distress. “I-I’m sorry, man, this night was supposed to be about you, an..and I made it about me, didn’t I?”

“A little bit,” Mac said, but he was smiling. “Wait, about me how?”

“Don’t worry about it, it was a stupid idea,” Charlie didn’t want Mac to let him go, so telling him he was planning on banging him was probably not the greatest idea.

Mac let him go anyway. “Wait. You smell bad, sure, but it’s more cologne and booze than cheese and sewage. I mean, still a little cheese and sewage, but—” He stood and crossed his arms. “What’s going on here, bro? You trying to bang me or something?”

“Aw, Mac, why would you say that?” Stupid more-sober Mac and his more-functional fucking brain. Of all the times Mac could have become perceptive— why now? Because it was annoying? Charlie wondered if Mac was simply putting up an act. “I’m not gay.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

“You literally are gay, dude. I do not mean it as an insult, I’m not trying to hurt your feelings, here, I am just saying, you are totally gay.”

“Shut up!” Mac was furious, as per usual. “I’m not gay! I’m a manly man, I’m not gay!”

“Listen, dude, ok, you’re not gay. If you’re not gay, and I’m not gay, then there’s no reason we couldn’t kiss in a friendship way to prove we aren’t.”

“What? Kissing each other would be about the gayest thing we could do, Charlie, how do you not see that?”

“I-it wouldn’t be gay unless we’re both gay, how can you not see that?”

“Charlie, I can’t see that because that logic is utterly retarded. I’m going back to Dee’s. See you later.” He started for the door.

Charlie swiftly stumbled in front of him. “Come on, Mac! Do this for me! You gotta!”

Mac relaxed a bit. “You really wanna kiss me, huh?”

“Yeah, bro, absolutely.” This was a lie. He didn’t really like kissing at all. But maybe, if Mac thought he was helping Charlie instead of the other way around, it might make it easier for him.

Mac sighed, rolling his head back, and throwing up his hands. “Fine, fine. I’ll do what I have to to get you off of my back about this whole ‘best friends’ thing, but it doesn’t mean anything else. You know, I know, and most importantly, God knows. And!” Mac pointed to the sink. “You gotta brush your teeth first, bro, your breath is disgusting.”

Charlie eagerly did so. Mac watched him the whole time. It occurred to Charlie that this was probably the first time Mac had ever witness him brushing his teeth, and the way he did was odd for most people to witness in his experience, and he gently and slowly dragged the bristles over his loose teeth. When he was finished, Mac sat back on the couch, tense and uncomfortable. Charlie sat next to him, closer than before.

He didn’t waste another minute. His mouth was on Mac’s.

It was weird at first, because Mac didn’t immediately kiss him back, but he slowly eased into the kiss, and it got better. Slightly. Mac wasn’t great at kissing— Charlie was pretty sure that he himself was also not that great, though— but Mac didn’t seem to mind. He had cupped the sides of Charlie’s face in his hands and was holding him there, gently, slipping his tongue in Charlie’s mouth. It was weird, just like most of the times Charlie had kissed anyone. Mac slipped one hand down to land on Charlie’s upper thigh, and Charlie immediately wrenched himself away.

“Uh,” Mac said. “You ok?”

“I’m fine, dude.”

They sat in silence as Charlie stared into the weave of the couch, eyes blank. Mac awkwardly fiddled with his fingernails for a few moments before placing his hands on Charlie’s shoulders and pulling him forward again. Charlie’s gaze finally snapped up to Mac’s face, just moments before Mac was pressing their faces together. Charlie felt himself growing tense, especially as Mac pushed him down onto the couch. Just relax, Charlie, he reminded himself. This is for Mac. This is for your best friend. He tentatively touched Mac’s chest over his shirt, and Mac slid one of his hands up Charlie’s thigh, and this time, Charlie forced himself not to react. There was something in it all that felt good, that felt familiar and good, but it was a quiet feeling lost in the white noise of howling memories that kept trying to invade Charlie’s mind. He shut his eyes, but that made it worse.

Don’t cry, he reminded himself. That isn’t sexy. Do something sexy. Do something to encourage him. Let him know it’s ok, that what he wants to do is ok. Charlie hitched his calves up, wrapping his legs around Mac and drawing them closer together. Mac absolutely had a boner. And Charlie knew how to handle boners. He rolled his hips into Mac’s groin— Mac broke the contact of their mouths to grunt.

“You didn’t want to bang me, huh?” Mac smiled. “I guess that’s true, right? You want me to bang you, right?”

Charlie bit his lip, clasping his hands behind Mac’s neck, and nodding with a pained smile. “Yeah, dude.”

“Because you’re gay, and I’m not gay, so me banging you means I’m just doing you a favor, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, dude, let’s— let’s not go too much into detail with the ‘who is gay’ and who isn’t shit right now, let’s— let’s just do this. Let’s keep it going.”

“Alright, Charlie, patience is a virtue, dude.”

But Charlie was already unzipping his pants, extricating himself from them, and Mac didn’t know what to do besides shrug and follow suit. Charlie wasn’t hard. Maybe a little, but certainly not to the level that Mac was at. And Mac was absolutely just going for it— he didn’t have a clue, did he? Charlie went rigid on the couch, squeezing his eyes shut and shouting. “Nope, nope, NOPE.”

“What? You chickening out, dude?” Mac looked more disappointed than a straight man about to fuck another man up the ass for a supposed favor should have looked.

“No— no, Mac, you can’t just shove inside me like some sort of maniac! You’re gonna hurt me!” Charlie staved off hyperventilation as best he could, while wondering if he could even actually go through with this. It was for Mac.

“Well, what am I supposed to do, dude?” Mac whined. “I’m not the gay one here, you would know better than me what to do.”

Charlie was blank for a second, before his reached under the futon for— there it was, a small little container of old petroleum jelly, store brand, nothing fancy. He handed it to Mac. “Put this on your dick at least. I’m gonna— I’m gonna try to relax.”

Mac slathered himself with it as Charlie allowed himself deeper and deeper breaths. It’ll be ok. It’ll be ok. It’s for Mac. And Mac clearly wanted to do this. He was eager. He was ready to bang Charlie. And Charlie wondered how long Mac had felt that way.

But the wonder was cut short by the stinging pain of Mac trying to enter him too quickly. If he stopped this again, he knew Mac would probably throw a shitfit and leave and tell everyone as some sort of pathetic revenge for not getting laid, so instead he just grit his teeth and willed himself to relax. Relax. Relax.

Mac was all the way in, and it did hurt, but it felt better than it had initially. Part of the difference was the look on Mac’s face, which was a mixture of pure, child-like joy and strictly adult pleasure. “Jesus, dude,” Mac said, pulling back. “Oh my god. Holy shit.”

Charlie bucked his hips into Mac as Mac started to press forward again. This ritual repeated until it was easy enough for Mac to just go to town, cursing and sweating and digging his fingernails into Charlie’s skin.

Once again, there was pleasure there, but Charlie couldn’t focus on it. The only thing that was keeping him from tail-spinning into a breakdown was that it was Mac above him. It was Mac that was doing this to him, and Mac liked it, and he loved Mac, so it was OK. Mac was creepy, sometimes, but so was Charlie, and they could be creepy together without necessarily creeping each other out. And as Mac leaned lower to kiss him again, it was like he was throwing some sort of life-raft of comfort to Charlie, one that Charlie gladly accepted. It was still weird to kiss, but it felt far more normal now that he was being fucked again for the first time in decades. That sense of normalcy was something to cling to, so while Mac was banging him like there was no tomorrow, he decided he would kiss Mac like there was no tomorrow. He would touch Mac, and remind himself that this was Mac. Yeah. He was starting to like it, maybe? He enjoyed that even as they kissed he could hear Mac’s groans, grunts, whines, as he plowed away. 

The moment Charlie felt Mac’s hand on his dick, he reactively convulsed in a rather obvious way.

Mac stopped what he was doing, and, despite the fact that his dick was still buried in his friend’s body, began to speak as though nothing out of the ordinary was going on. “What the hell, dude?”

“I-I-I-I’m just—“ Charlie covered his face with his hands, making a pained noise. “You don’t have to do that, dude.”

“Come on, Charlie, you’re supposed to be enjoying this. I can’t enjoy this more than you.”

“I am enjoying it,” Charlie’s voice was cracking, his eyes watering. 

“Shut up, Charlie, your dick isn’t even hard. Now, I don’t know what you usually do, but if I was in your position, I would pretty much expect the top to jerk me off.”

Charlie wondered exactly how many times Mac had thought about getting his ass banged that he would come to that conclusion, swallowed the tears, and nodded. “Ok, ok. Ok. I’m fine, I’m sorry.”

Mac sighed, pressed his forehead against Charlie’s. “I care about you, Charlie. I want you to be happy. Not matter what kind of disgusting, sinful thing you’re into. I want you to be happy.” He pressed a gentle kiss on Charlie’s mouth. He began to continue what he had been doing before, slower and quieter now, tugging at Charlie’s dick. Charlie felt the blood in his body course to match the touch of his friend’s hand, and grow. Mac was so good at this. How did he get so good at this? It was hard to ignore the pleasure now, now that it was coming from two different angles, now that it was clear that Mac did care about him, as they kissed, as they banged. As Mac proved, in his own strange way, to be Charlie’s best friend. Any time it hurt, any time it felt uncomfortable, any time Charlie needed to remind himself that this was ok, Mac adjusted what he was doing. Charlie didn’t feel like crying so much, anymore. The thoughts in his head weren’t as successful at escaping the cage he tried to keep them in. He felt good.

And then it was over.

Mac collapsed on top of Charlie and they stayed that way, breathing heavily and saying nothing, for several minutes. Mac perked his head up and stared at Charlie’s face, took a deep breath, and asked, “Did I do it right?”

“Huh?” Charlie was so dazed and unsure how to feel, the question didn’t register at first. “Huh, uh, yeah, man, you— you were great.”

“You were great, too, Charlie. I mean, I don’t mean that in a gay way, but I would totally bang you again, bro.” He pressed his lips against Charlie’s cheek. “I mean, if you need it, dude, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Yeah,” Charlie smiled. Was he disappointed that his plan to get Mac to accept himself had failed? Sure. But he was relieved, at least, that even if it had to be in this bizarre fashion, filled with denial and projection, he could at least be the one who helped Mac get some kind of outlet for his feelings. Because he knew Mac would do the same for him— he already had, hundreds of times.

They nestled together on the futon in silence for a couple of minutes. Charlie rolled little circles in Mac’s exposed upper arm. Mac played with Charlie’s hair.

“So,” Mac said, suddenly. “You wanna huff some glue?”

“Absolutely,” Charlie said. Just like the good old days. Maybe a little too much.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry its not exactly sexy but it's hard for me to conceive of Charlie being jazzed about diddling so


End file.
